Is My Wife, Aredhel, Dead?
by HotaruBoshi
Summary: This is a sequel of sorts to my story "My Sister, Aredhel, Is Dead." You can read this story without having read that one, and I hope you enjoy!


**Authors Note:** I really need to stop letting my imagination run wild! I'd really meant to finish the third chapter of my story, _Love That Endures_, before doing anything else, but, um ...

Anyways, this is the result of my imagination running wild. But my inspiration for this story comes from the story _In The Fire of The Sun_ by Alena, and I highly encourage that you all read this story.

**Warning:** This story contains mildly dark subjects such as hate and insanity, so proceed with caution. If you would rather not have anything to do with those topics, **I encourage you to turn around and read something else**. Actually, this applies to most of my other stories too, I think.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters, places, or events that occur in this story. I have borrowed them from Professor Tolkien who as been kind enough to let us borrow them. Everything here belongs to him, because without him (and his son Christopher!) there wouldn't be a _Silmarillion_.

And that was a really long Author's note. Now begins the story!

(And congrats to any of you that are still reading this!)

* * *

My wife, Aredhel, is dead.

I know this because I am the one that killed her. I am the one that drove the javelin into her bosom. I am the one that poisoned the tip of the javelin. I am the one …

I shall say naught of this to anyone. Not to the guards, not to the lords, not even to her brother the king shall I say aught of the danger that besets her. _My wife, Aredhel, is dead._

True, true, it was _he_ that I intended to kill, it was _he_ that I aimed to pierce, and _he_ that I hated. I would plead innocent of her death, but that is a lie. For if innocent I am, why then do I not cry out, _the tip was poisoned, if you do nothing she shall die!_ and spare her life? Why do I keep my silence?

Who knows? For only the One knows the heart of the evil one.

Love is a dangerous thing. I have stood upon the edge of the knife, and I tell you that if you but stray a little to one side, you shall fall. I know this because I have fallen.

Why, then, do we love? Why do we chose to venture onto the knife? It would be better if we all chose instead to remain loveless; alone, and in the dark. For in the dark you need not see flaws nor evil: in the dark there is nothing, so there are no flaws. There is only evil, but in evil you are safe. Why venture into the light, when it is so much better to be in the shadows? Do not endanger yourself, and be instead like me. I have always been in the dark, and I shall die in the dark.

The light of the sun is waning. Ere long they shall come. Let them come! I wait here in this dungeon. 'Tis a royal dungeon carved of stone, but a dungeon nonetheless. For though I love the dark, I do not love imprisonment. I love nothing but to be in the dark deepness of the forest. There I met her, the accursed woman with light in her face. I am glad that the light is waning, and that darkness shall soon fall. Aye, let them come. _I am ready._

My time is come. I shall die and return to the Darkness, and she will be there, for I know that she is dead. _The tip was poisoned._

Did I ever love her? No, no, the question ought to be: _did she ever love me?_ But it matters not, for she is dead. The love of the dead is powerless.

Whether I love her or not is no one's concern, because she is dead, and I have made peace with it. She is dead, and she shall not return even if I regretted my actions. But I do not regret them, and I do not care that she is gone. For now I am free. It was never I that ensnared and enslaved her, never I; it was always, always the women. She had no magic nor gift in the arts, and she had no power in my woods. But it was she that has ever enslaved me and bound me fast. I could never escape her.

But now, Aredhel, now I am free! Never again shall I be your slave. I have the victory. You are dead.

It is dark now. Light is dead, and though morning shall soon again awake, you never shall, my pale, beautiful Aredhel. You cannot come back to haunt me.

Hark! Beyond the walls I hear the guards. They are coming. Daylight is breaking, but I am not afraid. I have seen this brother of yours, and though he is King I do not fear him.

They have unlocked my door. I greet them with a smile, for what have I to fear? They are grim, but I do not care. I bid them make haste and bring me to Turgon, for I would not wait. _I am ready._

They bind me and lead me blindfolded through the city, but I am no fool, and I know that they have taken me from the paved road into the mountains, for the ground is rough and steep. There they remove my blinds, and there stands the King.

But nay, this cannot be! This, this is impossible! Preposterous! That …!

_Pale white skin glimmers in the dawn, shadowy hair flies in the wind, a white dress and a white face more fair than Moon or snow, terrible eyes that shine—_

No, no, no—

My wife, Aredhel, is dead!

She is dead!

**_Am I, Eöl my beloved?_**

… She _is_ dead, isn't she?

For though it is Turgon that stands there, I can but see her, the woman that I have killed. I know that she is dead because I am the one that killed her. I am the one that drove the javelin into her bosom. I am the one that poisoned the tip of the javelin. I am the one …

How?

How is it, Aredhel, that even when dead, you return to haunt me? Even in death you imprison me! Shall I ever be free of you?

Aredhel-no, _the King_ now speaks.

I hear his words, but I cannot understand them, for I do not see him, but Aredhel. Accursed woman, that you would torment me so even as I am about to die! I hate you, my dear wife, I hate you with all my being. How is it that through this brother of yours you still mock me so?

You have always mocked me, ever with sickening sweetness and a venomous smile. Even in death, you still do. Shall I never have peace?

No, never, as long as Turgon stands. In the face of Turgon you yet live. O wretched woman, that you had been born in the likeness of any but him! I do not fear death, but this I cannot bear!

I am not afraid. I have never feared anything, but your the sight of your pale face has made my blood cold, and I am chilled to the marrow of my bones. Leave me, spirit, and let me have peace!

That you would do this to your own husband!

I know not what Turgon has said, but I know that I will die. The guards have seized me and are dragging me to the edge. I cannot struggle. You are here with me, though disguised as a King in royal robes.

Death shall be sweet, for there you can no longer haunt me!

_**Is that so, my husband?**_

But, what is this? Has my ill-gotten son come to watch me die?

I care not. Only—

_**Maeglin has grey eyes.**_

No, no, not this! Cursed am I! The Valar mock me! I hate you, Aredhel my beloved, with all my being! That our son was born in the likeness of any but you! How is it on this cliff that you live in the faces of these men? How do you ever hunt me without pity? Where is my victory? I cannot escape. Are you happy, Aredhel, happy that I so despair?

I hate you, you and your accursed kin!

This child of ours will die, just as you and I die.

_**"So you forsake your father and his kin, ill-gotten son! Here shall you fail of all your hopes, and here may you yet die the same death as I!"**_

He is silent. So like unto me, yet a shadow of your spirit.

Ah, they are casting me from the rocks. I am falling.

Did you love me, my beautiful dead wife?

Did you love your brother, though he imprisoned you and you imprisoned him?

Oh, I know that you love our son, and for that I hate you.

But …

I wonder, Aredhel, if you are really dead. You live on in their faces, and for that I hate you.

And yet, Aredhel, I—

—I love you, Aredhel my dear.

_Do you love me?_

**_Yes_**…

…_**I do**_.

_**FINIS**_

* * *

I hope you enjoyed! Please review!

As a side note, I hope that none of you take what Eol said too seriously. He's a very complicated character with issues, and in this story he has somewhat of a mental breakdown. I just don't want any of you to go through to much just because of this story.

I also forgot to mention, but I took a direct quote from the book towards the end. Just thought I should make it clear that it was from the Professor, and not me. Thumbs up to anyone who can guess what the quote is!

Have a good day!


End file.
